


Digital Getdown

by nhpw



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Skype, Spanking, Teasing, Vibrators, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6601624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen likes to be watched, and his partners - all of them - are more than happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Digital Getdown

**Author's Note:**

> For M, who put it in my head that Jensen has a humiliation kink. Thanks for that. :)
> 
> There's some name-calling and teasing all up in this story. I tried to make it clear that this is something Jensen thrives on as part of his kink, and that it's welcome and consented to, but in case that doesn't come through, I'll say it explicitly that this was my intention. In reality I have no idea what this beautiful man's kinks may or may not be, so. This is purely fiction and fantasy and 100% a product of my own imagination, and has nothing to do with the actual real-life players involved. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Let’s… OK.” Misha punches a few keys on his laptop, a concentrated frown evident in the knit of his brow and the tight draw of his lips. But the lips slide into a smile a moment later as the program finally does what he’s asking and connects, bringing up the face of his gorgeous wife. “Heeeey!” he exclaims with equal parts greeting and victory, and leans forward to kiss the screen. 

“There she is,” Jensen swoons from behind him, and he’s joined at the screen by his co-star, who slings a relaxed arm around his shoulders. “Hey there, Beautiful.”

“You two look positively giddy,” she observes, her smile taking on an air of teasing. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We’re live-streaming,” Misha teases back.

“Dmitri, I will kill you.”

“He’s kidding. I think. I hope.” Playfully, Jensen turns to face Misha with a look of mock-disdain. “This is not going on the Internet.”

“Oh come on!” But Misha can only keep it up for half a second before he’s dissolving into a puddle of giggles. “Ah. No. This is… Jensen wants to play.”

Vicki raises her eyebrows and quirks them a few times. “He does, does he?”

Jensen’s eyes are shining with something equal parts mischief and lust. “I’m gonna pull in Dee in a second, too. Thought… you girls might like a show, if you’re free.”

Actually, he  _ knows  _ they’d like a show, and he wants to put on that show for them so badly he’s already painfully hard inside his favorite pair of courds. 

“Ah yes. Exhibitionist Jensen has arrived.”

“Christ, Vick, Exhibititionist Jensen is such a frequent visitor he has his own key,” Misha reminds before he starts punching at his keyboard again with a, “OK, hang on. One down, one… to… go.” 

Jensen stands and lets the self-declared techno wizard among them work his magic while he pulls his black t-shirt off without ceremony and opens the button and zipper on his fly. It’s become too uncomfortable to keep everything under wraps, and while a bit of a flush creeps into his cheeks at the idea that there’s a slight possibility Misha might misdial and someone other than Vicki and his wife would see him stripping down… well, it’s a kind of flush he craves and an idea that only serves to make him harder.

“Wasting no time, I see.” Danneel’s voice floats to Jensen’s ears as he’s pushing his pants down and away, and he looks up to give a wave of greeting before returning to his task. “Commando, too. Guess that removes all doubt.” Though it comes as no real surprise - both men are prone to free balling, but for different reasons. Misha does it because he’s just that confident and interested in letting it all hang free. 

Jensen does it when he’s feeling especially slutty and wants to make himself readily accessible. 

“All right.” Misha turns away from the screen of his computer, giving it a bit of a tweak in the angle of the screen before leaving it sit where it’s positioned on his bedside table. He steps away from the computer to circle up behind Jensen and press a not-so-subtle clothed erection firmly against the other man’s bare ass. His arms come around Jensen at the shoulders, and he nips at his jaw before returning his eyes to the screen. “Can everybody see OK?” As a test, he lowers Jensen to the bed and grips the younger man’s erection firmly, giving it a few slow, tight strokes - just enough to draw a needy moan from his partner.

“This is better than porn,” Danneel says by way of reply, and there’s an “mmmhmmm” of agreement from Vicki. 

“Baby, this  _ is  _ porn,” Misha corrects, continuing his slow, steady stroking of Jensen’s cock. “Live and in living color.” He dips his head and starts sucking at the hollow of Jensen’s neck, giving a soft “hmmm” of appreciation when Jensen lets out a strangled moan. Then he reaches down and takes Jensen’s right hand in his, guiding Jensen to take himself in hand. “Why don’t you take over this part?” he breathes.

Jensen opens his eyes and looks up to find that Misha’s vision is explicitly focused on the laptop screen. He’s got all of his lovers on a leash right now, masterfully drawing both women in with those piercing blue eyes. 

But the only one he can touch at the moment is Jensen, and his male partner is reveling in the attention.

“Amazing,” Vicki murmurs, and it makes Misha smile into the crook of Jensen’s neck, where he’s busy staking a claim.

“I’m jealous of the way he melts for you,” Danneel adds, “and I’m his wife.”

Misha chuckles darkly against Jensen’s skin before biting at it, sucking, leaving his mark on the other man’s skin. There’s a moan that could be either desire or protest, Misha can’t tell which, and he doesn’t really care because if Jensen has any complaints, he’s a big enough boy to voice them. One cursory glance says Jensen’s fist hasn’t slowed its pace on his own erection. He’s fine. He’s eating this up, so Misha darkens the tone a notch. “You can be such a beautiful whore.” His voice is strained with desire, and he moves back to shake himself out of his pants without ever breaking contact with Jensen entirely. When he returns to fully brace him from behind, he settles his erection into the crack of Jensen’s ass and rocks, giving himself friction while returning his mouth to its mission to mark his territory. “Tell the ladies how hard I am for you, Handsome.”

“ _ Ohhh… _ ” Jensen just whimpers and his hand slows to a stop on his erection as he turns his head up to look behind himself at Misha.

When their eyes meet, Misha in turn pulls back and then Jensen feels the sharp sting of an audible slap across his right ass cheek. 

Jensen’s still reeling from the sting as Vicki’s laughter meets his ears. “Taking no prisoners tonight, huh, Mish?”

“Oh, I already have one. And he’s feisty.” He hisses in a breath before coiling back and bringing another sound slap down on Jensen’s ass. “Don’t think for one second this is just about you,” he bites out in a hot whisper against Jensen’s ear. Another slap, and he holds Jensen’s torso steady as the younger man bucks at the impact. “You’re the star of this scene, absolutely, but don’t let that go to your head. I’m the one behind the camera, calling the shots.”

“Oh really?” Jensen chances a laugh, but it’s breathy and nervous and completely obvious that it’s a ruse. He’s already slipping.

Still, in response, Misha disconnects from Jensen completely and comes around to stand in front of him, looking him up and down as Jensen throws his head back, reveling in the freedom to move at his own pace. He’s no sooner let out a pleasured moan than Misha is slapping his hand away, breaking the rhythm he’s set for himself. Their eyes meet and in response to Jensen’s shocked expression, Misha just cocks one eyebrow in challenge. “You’ve woken the dragon,” he growls before flattening his right palm on Jensen’s bare chest and giving him a forceful shove back onto the bed. “I didn’t set all this up just so you could masturbate with an audience, you know.”

“Sure seemed like that to me.” The grumble is under a heavy breath, but Misha hears it anyway, and one glance at the computer screen says the ladies did, too. Danneel’s hands, previously busy between her legs, have now come up to clasp on top of each other over her mouth as she lets out a squeal. And Vicki looks just as pissed as Misha.

Misha looks from Jensen to the screen and back to Jensen, hands on his hips and bottom lip pulled in between his teeth. “Shut up,” he says finally, eyes boring into Jensen with a darkness that makes Jensen back off in an instant. His eyes disconnect from the scouring glare, dropping in deference and defeat. In response to the command, he only nods.

The older man sheds his shirt without ceremony and then joins Jensen on the bed, still seething as he pins Jensen to the bed, hands above his head and Misha’s weight centered on his hips. He locks them into a bruising kiss and won’t let Jensen disconnect even when he starts to whine. He waits until he absolutely has to breathe, and then he sits up panting. “Really,” he responds finally. “This isn’t just about you. This is for them,” he says, throwing a cursory glance and a nod toward the open laptop screen. He lets that settle for a beat before licking his lips and continuing. His voice is low, clearly meant only for the man he has pinned beneath them, and not for their audience. “So how about you stop being a brat and help me make it good for them, hmmm?” Jensen’s only reply is a slow nod against the bedsheets beneath his head. “Good.” Misha takes  deep, calming breath and then smiles, and when he leans down to capture Jensen’s lips again, it’s softer and Jensen yields easily to the kiss, to Misha’s touch, to Misha’s tongue. “Besides,” and it comes out strained against Jensen’s lips, “You wanna be a brat for me, we can do that later.”

Jensen just chuckles and relaxes into the kiss, bucking as he feels Misha’s hand come between them and wrap around his hardness. “Misha…”

“Make some noise, sweetheart. Let them hear you.” He grips tighter and strokes harder, coaxing toward the desired result, and beams down at Jensen when he gets it. “That’s it.” Satisfied for the time being with Jensen’s level of arousal, Misha shifts his weight up and off his partner so that he can roll Jensen over and up onto his hands and knees. “Eyes on the screen, J.”

He knows what’s coming, but that doesn’t stop the obscene sound that spills from him as he’s breached. Misha pushes forward without stopping until he’s in up to his second knuckle, and Jensen writhes and ducks his head to draw a huffed breath as the finger goes to work, twisting and circling inside his ass. But Misha doesn’t miss the bow of his head and his left hand comes off Jensen’s hip to connect with his ass in a sharp slap of warning. “I said eyes. On. The screen. Look at your wife. Show her that beautiful face you get when you know you’re about to get fucked.”

“Your needy face is the best,” Danneel says. She’s removed her shirt and returned to touching herself lazily, fingers coming up to pinch her nipples in tandem, which draws a whimper from Jensen. 

“Second best,” Vicki interjects, and Jensen steals a few seconds to look at her. “Nothing beats the face he makes when he’s  _ actually _ being fucked. We’ll get there soon, handsome boy, don’t worry.” It’s almost patronizing the way she says it. If Jensen wasn’t so horny he couldn’t see straight, it probably would be. As it is, though, he just bits his lip and lets out a sob.

“ _ So _ true. I love watching Misha fuck you.” Her moans fill his ears and he has to clench his eyes shut; the visual stimuli, along with the verbal teasing and the feel of Misha’s fingers, borders on overwhelming. 

“Give him another finger, Mish. He’s way past ready.”

Jensen can’t help thinking that might not be exactly true, because it burns a bit more than usual as Misha nudges in his middle finger alongside the index and pauses barely a beat before he starts scissoring, really stretching the muscle open. But it doesn’t matter. He revels in the feeling and pushes back eagerly, fucking himself slowly on Misha’s digits, and his body welcomes them with easy familiarity.    


“How’s that feel, J?” It’s Vicki’s voice that reaches his ears, sweet but bordering on twisted and, sure enough, she follows it up with, “Must be pretty good, the way you’re drooling on the sheets. I bet you’re wishing Dani or I was there to touch that poor, neglected cock of yours, aren’t you?”

“ _ Fuck yes _ ,” Jensen grits out as Misha adds a third finger while his right hand connects hard and stinging with the flesh of his ass once again.

“Eyes open and on the screen or I’ll stop,” he threatens, slowing his fingering hand minutely - just enough so that Jensen is sure to notice, and he does.

“Gahhhhh…” His strangled moan fills the air and he forces his eyes up to the computer monitor. Vicki’s stripped as well now, and she’s looking at him with stern bemusement, eyebrows up. In the quiet following his frustrated cry, there’s the unmistakable whir of a vibrator coming from the speakers, though Jensen can’t be certain which woman is making use of the toy. Their faces fill mirrored sides of the screen, but the only body parts visible are above the waist.

“I know I’ve been missing the taste of you,” Vicki continues. “You’re always so gentle, so loving, so eager to please. And yet, get a mouth on that cock or a cock in that ass and you’re a whimpering bundle of nerves and need. God, I’d suck you right now just to hear you beg for more.”

“That can be arranged,” comes Misha’s voice from behind him, and Jensen starts to turn his head at the rustle of fabric and tear of foil, only to have a large, strong hand on his head in silent direction to keep his eyes facing forward. Another moment and there’s a bluntness resting at his entrance.

He braces for an entry, but it doesn’t come.

He frowns at the screen. Thrusts his hips back gently to try to take it in, but Misha moves back accordingly, denying penetration.

“Fucking come on!” He exclaims, seething with frustration, fingers tightening in the sheets beneath him as he tries again to buck back and force Misha to breach him.

“Uh uh uh,” the older man clucks, and in spite of herself, Danneel giggles from her side of the screen. “Vicki requested begging.” Misha seems to take note of Danneel’s laughter in the next beat and says, sounding intrigued, “Dee? You want begging, too?”

“I do love when he’s desperate enough to beg,” she replies, nodding, and Jensen meets her eyes with a scowl. “Oh, now, Jensen. Why the face, Baby?”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“We’re all on the same side,” she teases sweetly, and he scowls more deeply as she puts on her most innocent face - the one that always gets her what she wants, that says she’s not really so innocent at all. “Everyone here wants to see you cum. It’s a team sport.”

He positively  _ growls _ , but there’s nothing he can do; Misha’s gripping his hips to hold him still, and the women are looking at him expectantly. He’s desperate, Dani’s right; the buildup has turned his dick purple and painful and he needs to get off. He needs to. “Please,” he breathes. The word feels delicious on his tongue - it’s not that he hates begging, especially under terms like this. All eyes and ears are waiting on him. He holds the cards for elevating the scene. For all that Misha said he was the director, no, that’s not true. Right now Jensen’s got actor’s choice of how long to pause for effect, and he’s relishing the taste of it. “Please…”

“Please what?” That voice, like warmed over honey cut with cinnamon.

“Please… I need you.”

“Hmmm…” A sigh, and those hands on his hips start to dig in and knead in a way that says Misha wants to leave bruises on more than just Jensen’s collarbone. “I think the ladies and I need you to be more specific.”

“I won’t stand for anything less than owning your sluttiness, J,” Vicki says matter-of-factly, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t disappoint me.”

That request, the way she says it, the way she sounds positively proud of him for his need to put on a show, unlocks something inside Jensen ane he curses and growls, “ _ Please _ , Mishka. I need you to fuck me, please don’t tease me anymore, please just shove your cock in my ass and pound me until you cum…”

“And what about your orgasm, hmmm?” But Misha’s pressing forward, giving a slow entry for safety’s sake, and Jensen just sobs and whimpers through it until he bottoms out and reaches under Jensen’s body to ghost his fingers over the hardness that bobs there. “It’s just obscene the way you’re leaking all over. Jutting out like that, just hoping someone will take pity on you.” His fingers curl around at the base and Jensen’s mouth opens and sound comes out, though he can’t be entirely sure if it’s words or moans at this point.

“Please. Please. Please.”

“All right. I got you.” There’s a soft kiss behind his ear that stands in sharp contrast to everything else, and then Misha’s consuming him, setting a strong, steady rhythm with the thrusts of his hips and the tight draw of his fist. “Not until I say, though, OK?”

“OK. OK.” He’s not sure he can last, but he’s sure as shit going to try.

“OK.”

It’s the last word spoken. The room falls into the peace of heavy breathing, of the slap of skin on skin, of the buzz of a vibrator and the escalation of pleasure. Misha’s merciless on both ends of his pelvis and Jensen finds himself rocking like a ragdoll between fist and dick, and soon he’s whimpering, nearly crying, begging again - this time for release.

“I can’t hold it, Mish, I can’t, I gotta cum, please let me cum, please…”

There’s a sharp nip at his right earlobe, a momentary deviation from the pleasure, but it’s such a thin line it barely matters. “Make sure they hear you.”

He does. Of course he does. He sings out in tenor just ahead of Misha’s baritone, shorter and sharper but still an unmistakable cry of release. He’s vaguely aware of a couple of altos joining the chorus, but by the time he gets his bearings again, it’s quiet in the room save for the sound of heavy breathing.

“Well, ladies?” Misha’s the first to recover, pulling out to discard the condom and retreat to the attached bathroom to wash his hands. “Did we pass muster?”

“Flying colors,” Danneel offers, beaming, and Jensen returns the sweaty smile as he approaches to give a cursory kiss to both sides of the screen. “Wish we could be there for the cuddle party.”

“Soon enough, Beautiful.” Sated, Jensen’s voice is soft and he strokes a thumb over his wife’s hair while offering a smile and full eye contact to Vicki. “Thank you both very much.”

“You’re kidding, right? That was incredible,” Vicki returns with a sigh. “ _ You _ are incredible, J. Truly a unicorn if we were ever going to find one.” There’s an immature voice shouting from somewhere in the background and Vicki turns away from the camera toward the sound for a second before spinning back around. “That’s Maison. Something about a bear, and she can’t quite climb out of her crib just yet.”

“We’re in trouble when that happens.” Misha rolls his eyes and comes up to kiss Jensen’s cheek and sling an arm around his back. “All right. It’s late. You should both get some rest.”

“Look who’s talking, Mr. 14-Hour-Workday,” Danneel returns with a smirk.

“Watch it, Missy,” Misha fake-growls, only holding it long enough to make the joke before he’s laughing. “Goodnight.”

The connection cuts out on both sides of the screen a moment later, and Jensen and Misha turn toward each other, getting lost in a gaze for a moment before their lips meet. It’s not like the kisses from earlier - it’s shared and soft, searching on both sides for something they know they can draw from each other. It’s beautiful and sweet, but tinged with exhaustion. Tomorrow will come too soon. It always does.

“Stay?”

It’s a question, but it doesn’t need to be. Jensen nods and slips under the covers of Misha’s king bed, nude and fully aware that the room smells like sex and the sheets are stained with his semen. It doesn’t matter; they’ll tend to it tomorrow.

He yawns and rolls over, watching as Misha disconnects the electronics and powers down his laptop before padding into the bathroom.

He means to wait up for his partner to join him in the bed, but it’s not to be.

Misha finds him snoring and smiles with a shake of his head before climbing under the covers and allowing the predictable cuddle of Jensen’s body up into the spoon of his own, seeking comfort, seeking warmth, seeking contact.

A kiss and a steal of scent at the back of Jensen’s head, and then Misha’s out, too, one arm draped protectively around the middle of the man nestled in his embrace.


End file.
